Tribeca Film via Everett Collection
For a film that involves a love triangle, mental illness, a Bohemian colony of free-spirits, an impending war and several important historical figures, the most exciting elements of Summer in February are the stunning shots of the English country and Cornish seaside. The rest of the film never quite lives up to the crashing waves and sun-dappled meadows that are used to bookend the scenes, as the entertaining opening never manages to coalesce into a story that lives up the the cinematography, let alone the lives of the people that inspired it.
Set in an Edwardian artist’s colony in Cornwall, Summer in February tells the story of A.J. Munnings (Dominic Cooper), who went on to become one of the most famous painters of his day and head of the Royal Academy of Art, his best friend, estate agent and part-time soldier Gilbert Evans (Dan Stevens), and the woman whom they both loved, aspiring artist Florence Carter-Wood (Emily Browning). Her marriage to Munnings was an extremely unhappy one, and she attempted suicide on their honeymoon, before killing herself in 1914. According to his journals, Gilbert and Florence were madly in love, although her marriage and his service in the army kept them apart.
When the film begins, Munnings is the center of attention in the Lamorna Artist's Colony, dramatically reciting poetry at parties and charming his way out of his bar tab while everyone around him proclaims him to be a genius. When he’s not drinking or painting, he’s riding horses with Gilbert, who has the relatively thankless task of keeping this group of Bohemians in line. Their idyllic existence is disrupted by the arrival of Florence, who has run away from her overbearing father and the fiancé he had picked out for her in order to become a painter.
Stevens and Browning both start the film solidly, with enough chemistry between them to make their infatuation interesting. He manages to give Gilbert enough dependable charm to win over both Florence and the audience, and she presents Florence as someone with enough spunk and self-possession to go after what she wants. Browning’s scenes with Munnings are equally entertaining in the first third of the film, as she can clearly see straight through all of his bravado and he is intrigued by her and how difficult she is to impress. Unfortunately, while the basis of the love triangle is well-established and entertaining, it takes a sudden turn into nothing with a surprise proposal from Munnings.
Neither the film nor Browning ever make it clear why Florence accepts his proposal, especially when they have both taken great pains to establish that she doesn’t care much for him. But once she does, the films stalls, and both Stevens and Browning spend the rest of the film doing little more than staring moodily and longingly at the people around them. The real-life Florence was plagued by depression and mental instability, but neither the film nor Browning’s performance ever manage to do more than give the subtlest hint at that darkness. On a few occasions, Browning does manage to portray a genuine anguish, but rather than producing any sympathy from the audience, it simply conjures up images of a different film, one that focused more on Florence, and the difficulties of being a woman with a mental illness at a time when both were ignored or misunderstood.
Stevens is fine, and Gilbert starts out with the same kind of good-guy appeal the won the heart of Mary Crawley and Downton Abbey fans the world over. However, once the film stalls, so does his performance, and he quickly drops everything that made the character attractive or interesting in favor of longing looks and long stretches of inactivity. He does portray a convincing amount of adoration for Florence, although that's about the only real emotion that Gilbert expresses for the vast majority of the film, and even during his love scene, he never manages to give him any amount of passion.
Cooper does his best with what he’s given, and tries his hardest to imbue the film with some substance and drama. His Munnings is by turns charming, brash, and brooding, the kind of person who has been told all of their life that they are special, and believes it. He even manages to give the character some depth, and even though he and Browning have very little chemistry, he manages to convey a genuine affection for her. It’s a shame that Munnings becomes such a deeply unlikable character, because Cooper is the only thing giving Summer in February a jolt of life – even if it comes via bursts of thinly-explained hostility. It's hard to watch just how hard he's working to connect with his co-stars and add some excitement to a lifeless script and not wish that he had a better film to show off his talents in.
Unfortunately, by the time Florence and Gilbert are finally spurred into activity, the film has dragged on for so long that you’re no longer invested in the characters, their pain, or their love story, even if you want to be. Which is the real disappointment of Summer in February; underneath the stalled plot and the relatively one-note acting, there are glimmers of a fascinating and compelling story that’s never allowed to come to the forefront.
2/5
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Six months have never seemed so long, but the moment we've been waiting for since we saw The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey is finally here — there is now a trailer for Peter Jackson's second chapter, The Desolation of Smaug. The video is two minutes of fight sequences, scenic establishing shots, an epic score by Howard Shore, and Gandalf. Basically, it's everything we love about this franchise. And what's more, the elves are back, complete with flowing hair and skillful archery.
Also making appearances in the trailer are the much-anticipated barrel scene, where Bilbo and the dwarves escape from giant spider and wood elves, as well as the nefarious dragon Smaug. So we get some old fan-favorites mixed in with some exciting new characters. An Unexpected Journey was slow at times, but The Desolation of Smaug looks like it's going to be action-packed.
I don't know about you, but this trailer has me more excited than Sméagol when he first found the One Ring.
Follow Jordyn on Twitter @jordynmyah | Follow Hollywood.com on Twitter @Hollywood_com
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Johnny Depp’s wig collection is going to stay under lock and key for awhile, it seems. For the first time since 2003 he will not star in a live-action film directed by best bud Tim Burton.
After the bomb that was Dark Shadows, and a string of similar pop-Goth fantasies like Alice in Wonderland and Charlie and the Chocalate Factory, Burton is returning to reality with Big Eyes, a drama for the Weinstein Company, reports THR. Written by his Ed Wood scribes Larry Karaszewski and Scott Alexander, Big Eyes is about the tumultuous relationship between artists Walter and Margaret Keane, who rose to international fame in the ‘60s and ‘70s with their paintings of big-eyed children.
Sequel to Tim Burton’s ‘Alice in Wonderland’ Happening
Christoph Waltz and Amy Adams are currently in talks to portray the couple, whose marriage fell apart in 1965, precipitating a decades-long fight over who exactly painted what paintings. (Ryan Reynolds and Reese Witherspoon had originally been attached but left the project before Burton jumped onboard.) The authorship dispute was eventually settled in court following an epic “paint off” between the ex-spouses to prove before a judge who was most capable of painting the portraits that had made them successful. SPOILER ALERT! Margaret won the paint off, and the judge declared that she must have been responsible for the majority of their work, forcing her ex-husband to pay through the nose.
It’s the kind of story about the intersection of art and personality that arguably made Ed Wood one of Burton’s most satisfying achievements. Think it has promise?
Follow Christian Blauvelt on Twitter @Ctblauvelt
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What do Eddie Murphy, Bette Midler, Paul Newman, and Angie Dickinson have in common? No, they all haven't been at the same party at Brett Ratner's house. They are all winners of a Golden Globe. No, Murphy didn't get one for Pluto Nash he got one in 1982 as the New Star of the Year. The what now?
The Hollywood Foreign Press Agency started giving out the Most Promising Newcomer award in 1948, four years after their inception, to the person they thought was going to be hottest new thing to take Hollywood. The first winners were Richard Widmark and Lois Maxwell, people your grandparents might not even remember. From 1954 to 1965 the award was given out to three to four men and women who the European journalists thought were going to take the world by storm. In 1966 the award switched again and went to an actor and actress for a specific movie and, possibly because so many newcomers didn't show any promise, was renamed. The first winners were Robert Redford for Inside Daisy Clover (I'm sure he was!) and Elizabeth Hartman for A Patch of Blue.
Those first winners highlight exactly the problem with this specific category: more often than not the winners wound up being duds. Sure Robert Redford is one of the biggest stars in the world but Elizabeth Hartman? Let's look at 1969 Leonard Whiting and Olivia Hussey were given a pair of trophies for their portrayal of Romeo &amp; Juliet. Whiting retired from films by the mid-'70s and Hussey went on to star in some crappy horror films and then become a crazy agorophobic who had a hard time leaving the house. These are your New Stars of the Year, ladies in gentleman.
By 1983 the Globes were sick of giving this award to turkeys and gave out the final salutes in the category to Ben Kinglsey and Sandahl Bergman. All in all, the awards have a pretty lousy track record. Of the 59 actors and 58 actresses given the honor, I count only 17 actors (Richard Burton, Anthony Perkins, Paul Newman, James Garner, George Hamilton, Warren Beatty, Terence Stamp, Peter O'Tool, Omar Sharif, Albert Finney, Robert Redford, Dustin Hoffman, Jon Voight, James Earl Jones, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Eddie Murphy, and Ben Kingsley) and 14 actresses (Shirley MacLaine, Natalie Wood, Jayne Mansfield, Sandra Dee, Angie Dickinson, Jane Fonda, Ann-Margret, Patty Duke, Mia Farrow, Tatum O'Neal, Jessica Walter, Diana Ross, Jessica Lange, and Bette Midler) who achieved any sort of lasting modicum of celebrity (gauged by, well, whether or not I know who the heck they are). That's a 28% and 24% success rate predicting the promisenessness of newcomers. You have better odds playing Scratch-a-Millions from your local lottery system.
I reached out to the Hollywood Foreign Press Association for a comment on why the category was struck from the record and if they ever hope to bring it back. They didn't return my request for comment. They're probably still embarrassed about just how lousy their crystal ball is.
Follow Brian Moylan on Twitter @BrianJMoylan
[Photo Credit: Frank Edwards/Fotos International/Getty Images]
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Onscreen, he slept on a bed of old newspaper and lunch meats, grumbling at his finicky roommate and guzzling beer after beer. He made his life's work uncovering the mysteries behind suspicious deaths with a microscope and a permanent grimace. He deliberated upon a complex court case, whose story has maintained its status as one of cinema's greatest feats to date. Offscreen, his name was Jack Klugman. The accomplished film and television actor, a show business staple for over half a century, has passed away at the age of 90.
USA Today reports that Klugman died suddenly, of yet undetermined causes, on Monday in Los Angeles. The reports came to USA from his son, who revealed that Klugman passed away while beside his wife, Peggy Compton.
Early on in his career, Klugman took a role in Sydney Lumet's classic film 12 Angry Men, which would cement his reputation as a performer of note and stick with him has one of his greatest accomplishments. Undoubtedly, however, Klugman's most iconic role would have to be his small screen turn as Oscar Madison, the slovenly half of Neil Simon's The Odd Couple. Klugman assumed the role at the inception of the sitcom in 1970, more than living up to the crotchety but fun-loving incarnation of the character that audiences saw actor Walter Matthau create for the film, two years prior. For the program's five-year run, Klugman invigorated misanthropic slob Oscar with a perfect recipe of grumbling cynicism and boyish charm.
Immediately following the conclusion of The Odd Couple, Klugman returned to his dramatic roots with the crime series Quincy, M.E., portraying a coroner who made a habit of investigating the foul play behind a number of his deceased subjects. The series would last until 1983, allowing Klugman's notoriety to grant him a number of recurring and guest starring television roles throughout the remainder of his career.
From the mid-1970s on, Klugman had repeated struggles with throat cancer. In 1989, Klugman lost the use of his vocal cords temporarily, but through determination regained the ability to speak, continuing to perform on film and stage thereafter.
Klugman has been married twice: to actress Brett Sommers from 1953 until her passing in 2007, and then to Compton from 2008 on. Klugman is survived by Compton, and his two sons, Adam and David Klugman, from his first marriage.
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It is a sad, sad day, as we sit here with puffy eyes and struggle at our desks while we try to figure out just how soon we can get out of this forsaken job and hit someplace with alcohol. It may be a bar, so that we can toast with our friends and hope that the revelry will help us forget our sorry lives, or it may be at home, with a glass – no, bottle – of white whine while we sigh on the couch and remember our forgotten friend. Probably the latter. That is what Kim would have wanted. That is how Kim would like to go out, with our tears moistening our cheeks and us pouring out a bottle of white wine over our TV set as it sparks and explodes in a ball of smoke. It doesn't matter if you ruin it. You don't need your TV anymore. Kim Zolciak is no longer going to be on the Real Hair Manglers of Mario Kart Palace. There is nothing left to watch.
No siree Bob, Kim has got the check. She is doneski. She does not pass go, she does not collecte $200. She is making like a tree and going. She is not letting the door hit here where the sun don't shine. Goodbye, Kim. Goodbye. We have watched your weave grow from a tiny seedling to an immense beanstalk growing out of your head and traveling up to the sky where a giant named Kroy lives and where treasure awaits you for the rest of your days. Now, of course, this was the big event of last night's episode, but before we can get to Fight Brunch, we have to slog through some other details first.
There wasn't any moving this episode, which was a blessing, but there was my second least favorite Real Housewives convention: talking about planning. They're not planning a trip, they're talking about planning a trip. When they actually do the planning, there has been so much talking about the planning that when all these little grenades sit down around some Brioche French Toast and Egg Whites Benedict (which sounds vaguely racist) everything just explodes and the shrapnel scars all look horrible when they're sitting around in their bikinis laughing about what a great time they're having while they forget all about the planning when they're actually on the trip.
So, yes, lots of planning talk. NeNe and Gregg go over to see Cynthia and Peter and they talk about the trip. Then Cynthia puts on her smart lady glasses and has brunch with Kandi and they talk about planning. Then Kandi and Phaedra go to some weird store called Box Wood and talk about planning and then Kandi gives Phaedra some "Kegel Balls," which are little spheres that you place in the vagina and hold onto so that your netherworld gets super nice and tight. They do all this in a store called Box Wood, because they cannot write a double entendre between the two. They are strictly single entendre, but two single entendres does not add up to a double entendre. So we just get Box and Wood, each standing on their own, unexplored. Sorry, back to planning planning planning. Blah. Nothing interesting happened in any of these discussions that wasn't worn on Cynthia's face. Does she think she's Spike Lee in a Nike commercial or something? Has anyone told Cynthia what year it is? Does she still care about what happens to Jennifer Love Hewitt?
There were a couple of interesting meetings however, Portia, a pile of rags brought to life by the wizard Gargamel to capture Smurfs but then turned to the side of good, finally gallumphed out of the forest and married her husband Carvell, who is a Cookie Puss that melted and then was brought to life as a man made of ice cream. They are in sweet, sweet love and they make sweet, sweet love on the nightly because one of the rags that Gargamel threw in the pile was the one that kept next to his bed for "private time" and, well, that made Portia into a total sex fiend. So they're banging away, but they can't have a baby. That's because there was something wrong with Portia's lady parts. She goes to the doctor who waves a magic wand and then Portia's lady parts work again. Oh, miraculous day!
Portia's approach to motherhood seems to be that of an 8-year-old's holding a doll by one hand as the rest of it drags through the dirt. "I want to have four babies, two boys and two girls because that is just what my mommy had and I want to be a mommy just like my mommy. But I want to have twins, because they are awesome and have super powers and I will name one twin Olsen and one twin Doublemint because that is what you name twins. I only want to have babies two times and then I won't have to get fat." This is where Portia holds her head down and pouts in a completely adorable way, with her twisted pigtails hanging down around her face just so.
Not only is Portia a child, she's also kind of stupid, but she's like awesome stupid. I can't quite explain this Portia character other than the fact that she is blissfully vacant and no one seems to want to correct her or help her on her way. She meets with Cynthia and NeNe to talk about the charity she works for and says that her charity needs help 265 days a year. Now, I wish it were the case that the charity was fully staffed with volunteers for 100 days of the year and now they just need help with holidays and weekends and Tuesdays (because no one wants to give their time freely when all those Fox sitcoms are on) and that is what she meant by 265 days a year. But no. Portia does not know how many days there are in a year. She does not know many things. She does not know that Christmas is always on the same date. She does not know the boiling point of water. She does not know about exchange rates. She does not know how to bookmark a webpage. She does not know that eating yams will not give her twins, even if they did studies in Africa. She does not know that Bethpage is a town on Long Island and not a girl from her third grade class called Beth Page. She does not know that a cold cut sandwich isn't called that because it is sliced in half and not warm. She doesn't know any of these things. She is a ball of rags that runs around singing "La la lala la la, la lala la la," which is a song she learned from the Smurfs before she turned against Gargamel.
Speaking of evil sorcerers, Kernya Moo-ah is certainly possessed by the devil. Remember that story she told a few weeks past where she was hiking down a trail and a black snake crossed her path? I think when that happened an evil spirit wafted up from that animal and entered her body through her nose and has completely taken over. She's like that nun on American Horror Story where one minute she is being perfectly nice and sweet, but you know it is totally fake, like that hint of artificial sweetener you get when drinking the clear Gatorade. Then the next minute she has black pupils and she's speaking curses in Aramaic and is floating in the air and raising her arms into the sky over a virgin chained to the alter. That is what is going on Kernya Moo-ah.
We see this when she meets up with Phaedra and Apollo. She brings along her man Walt and then just shamelessly flirts with Apollo in front of their respective significant others. In Apollo's defense, he doesn't play into it, but it is making everyone squirmy. Phaedra is sitting on her fists so she doesn't punch this bitch square in her face and Walt is just slumped over with his undershirt hanging out of his sherbert colored button down in a pose that says, "What you gonna do? I'm lucky she'll have me." And Kernya is all, "Damn, Apollo, you are foine!" which is a direct quote, more or less.
Well, the four of them are going to ride Go Karts and Kernya shows up in a dress and heels because that is exactly what you wear when you are about to squat down into an exposed car and race around a track in front of decent human beings. It's apparent that the evil spirit that resides in Kernya Moo-ah's body is a speed demon because as soon as she gets in that car she starts to freak out. "Aye Aye Aye," she rattles as she grimaces at the camera. "I don't need a seat belt. I feel the need. The need for Speed Demon!! Aye Aye Aye." She shows her fangs and looks at Phaedra with glowing eyes and she just turns up her shoulder at Kernya, hoping that she just has some gas or something. Then Kernya starts shouting, "I am so evil. I am so eevvvviiiillll. Aye Aye Aye!" She speeds off with a big cloud of dust behind her while Phedra just fans it out of her face and spits the grit out of the side of her car. Apollo races confidently and assuredly, like anyone with a body like his would. And then Walt, sad Towtruck Walter, pulls up the rear, going so slowly it's like little bursts of smoke are going to come busting out of his tailpipe at regular intervals trying to propel him along. He's still confused because there's not another vehicle trailing his on the way to the garage. He's not used to driving like this. He's used to picking up after the demolition derby. But Kernya, she is possessed by the devil. She crosses the finish line and hops out of the car and draws a pentagram on the pavement and the whole course bursts into fire and transports everyone to hell where they will have to sell their souls just to get a glass of water, just to get back to Atlanta. That is the hell that Kernya Moo-ah has wrought.
Speaking of Kernya Moo-ah, Kandi invited her to Planning Brunch and Cynthia Bailey got her face tied up so tight it almost swallowed one of her giant earrings that were made from the crystals of two dying stars that lived next to each other. Then Kernya was like, "Oh, you're going to Anguilla? I would like to go," and when no one said anything she said, "OK, well, I'm coming, and that's that. Read my contract!"
But this whole Planning Brunch thing was a mess. First of all Pheadra arrived with not only lilies but all the lilies in the damn valley and apologized to Cynthia for butt dialing her and talking shit and told her that her quote was taken out of context and she didn't mean anything negative and she was very sorry. You can say a lot of things about Pheadra, but she is always classy. I give her mad props for being up front and trying to make things better.
OK, so then everyone files in and they're talking about the trip and Kernya invites herself and then Kim, who is the last one there, starts hemming and hawing and saying she might not be able to make it. All that I learned from all the previous planning meetings was that they all planned their trip around Kim's schedule and had rearranged all their dates so that she and Kroy could join them. Kim is making all this noise about how she might not be able to go because she's so pregnant and her due date has moved around and she has to talk to her doctor and blah blah blah. But it's just Kim making excuses, as she has for the past two years. It's just like our other favorite Kim, Kim Richards, always showing up to a party late, leaving a party early, or bailing at the last minute. She just doesn't want to be around.
Then Kim says that she and Kroy are going on their own vacation while the rest of them are in Anguilla. That is it for everyone. Kim says, "Well, we could have kept it in the country. We could have gone to Miami or Destin..." Ha! Those are Kim's alternatives. Destin? Destin! Are they all going to ride together in a pick up and camp out at your aunt's trailer and then go to the Applebee's for dinner. Destin. NeNe is pissed off at, in the first time she's had an extended conversation with Kim, she lets her have it and lets Kim know that she is ungrateful and a liar. NeNe might have gone too far, but I'm on her team in this one.
Anyway, this is all bullshit. As the ladies say, if Kim had concerns she could have brought them up earlier. She knew how pregnant she would be, and she sent the dates saying when she could travel. She either should have sent real dates or sent her regrets. But no, she made everyone rearrange their lives to go on this company trip that is contractually obligated and now she is totally skipping out on it. And they all know it has nothing to do with pregnancy, it has to do with Kim being over it.
Yes, Kim is entirely over these women, she is done being on the show, she is done. She wants to go back to her townhouse that is crammed full of tacky furniture and nuzzle with her baby and let her daughters run around the house eating pizza and yelling, "Mom! Mom!" and not answering. That is what she wants. Last season I loved that Kim sort of gave up and was over it all, but she was still engaged with the group. She didn't want to mess with any of their fighting, but she would still go and be the voice of reason. She would be her fun self, which is all we ever wanted from Kim. Now... well, now she's just boring. Now all she talks about is moving, fast food, and where she's going on vacation. It's like having my Cousin Audra over for dinner, and there is a reason why I do not ask her to come down from Rochester very often. It is because she is boring.
Kim is getting her own show, an extension of her Don't Be Tardy for the Wedding special and it will be all about her life and her family. She is the southern Bethenny Frankel, but the difference between the two of them is that Kim now holds the platform she launched from in the highest disdain. Bethenny was too smart to ever do that. She grew past the Real Housewives but she never thought she was better than them. Well, she probably thought she was, but she never let on. She was always grateful for the opportunity, and Kim should keep that in mind. Next week when she goes pushing the camera out of her face, she needs to remember that she owes everything to that camera in her face. She owes it all to those people around that table. She owes it all to acting out on television and being fun and crazy and entertaining.
But she got up and left Fight Brunch. She waddled off to the car and had her confrontation (which we'll see next week in full) and Kroy drove them back to the town house, and Kim couldn't do anything but look out the window. She just watched it all go buy, the closed businesses in the strip malls and the little bits of trees that separated one development from the next. The sprawl scrolled by as they stopped and started and drove in silence, the radio turned almost all the way down humming something incomprehensible, a skittering baseline of the quiet around them.
Kim stared out the window and thought about it all. She thought about that day when NeNe came over to her house with some guy she barely knew who had a camera. "Come on, Kiiiiiimmm," NeNe said. "Snatch on that wig and let's go. We're going to Sheree's and we're going to make a tape."
"A tape?" Kim said, in that way she always did where a question could be the ultimate indictment. "What kind of tape?"
"We're gonna make a tape to be on a show, honey. We're going to be reality stars, and we need someone like you."
"What am I going to do on a show? I got two kids, a fat ass, a boyfriend who won't leave his wife, a bunch of debt, no prospects, and nothing to do this afternoon but drink a bunch of wine and goof off."
"That means you're coming?"
"Damn straight I'm coming. We're going to make the hell out of that tape."
"It will probably be nothing.""Yeah, who cares. I just want to have some fun with my girls."
"Yes, we are all about fun. Plonk!"
That's how it all started, she can't forget that day, and how it all changed after that, how it changed everything. She would admit that it even changed her. Kim was starting to get hot and she took off her wig and put it in her lap. Kroy looked over at her, not to say anything, just to see what she was doing and he put his eyes back on the road, his jaw fixed tight. That's what she liked the most, finally being around someone quiet, someone she could be herself around. She messed up her matted hair and turned away from the side window and looked straight ahead. She reached out and put her hand over Kroy's as it rested on the stick shift in the middle of their seats. She just let it lay there, her heat transferring into him. And he didn't move his hand but bucked up his middle finger to sort of grab in between her knuckles. He was there for her. Just her. She kept her eyes fixed on the two yellow lines in front of her, going straight and straight and straight into the future without an end, impossible to see where the lines stopped. "It's just not fun anymore. It's just not fun at all."
Follow Brian Moylan on Twitter @BrianJMoylan
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Kristen Wiig has a handful of cinematic ventures poised for the future: her own pet project Imogene (which we saw at this year's Toronto International Film Festival), the Ben Stiller movie The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, Sean Penn's The Comedian, the independent dark comedy Revenge for Jolly!, and the sequels to animated films Despicable Me and How to Train Your Dragon. But with all of these announced prior to her heartrending departure from Saturday Night Live, and none yet released, it's been difficult for we Wiig-lovers to transition into this post-SNL, big screen-centric era. The actress' first new announcement to arise since she sang a tearful "Goodbye Ruby Tuesday" back in May is Hateship, Friendship, which The Hollywood Reporter reveals is negotiating with Wiig as well as Hailee Steinfeld (of True Grit fame) and Guy Pearce. Hollywood.com has confirmed that Nick Nolte is officially on board.
The film derives from a short story collection named Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage by Alice Munro, and will be written and directed by Liza Johnson. Despite bearing a title that makes it sound like a more emotionally-driven version of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (would you not love to see a English-accented Kristen Wiig trying to figure out who among Steinfeld, Pearce, and Nolte is the secret mole in the British government?), the dramedy actually revolves around the relationship between a nanny (Wiig), the young girl she is tasked with caring for (Steinfeld), the girl's estranged, drug-addicted father (Pearce), and a man who blames the latter for the death of his daughter (Nolte).
Although the moviegoing public has still yet to be graced with anything Wiig since her NBC departure, new projects with her name attached does help tend to the wounds of our Wiigless lives. Soon enough, the influx will hit: we'll have more widescreen Penelope/Target Lady/hopefully-not-Gilly than we know what to do with. And it'll be glorious.
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(Moviefone)

Widening the thematic scope without sacrificing too much of the claustrophobia that made the original 1979 Alien universally spooky Prometheus takes the trophy for this summer's most adult-oriented blockbuster entertainment. The movie will leave your mouth agape for its entire runtime first with its majestic exploration of an alien planet and conjectures on the origins of the human race second with its gross-out body horror that leaves no spilled gut to the imagination. Thin characters feel more like pawns in Scott's sci-fi prequel but stunning visuals shocking turns and grand questions more than make up for the shallow ensemble. "Epic" comes in many forms. Prometheus sports all of them.
Based on their discovery of a series of cave drawings all sharing a similar painted design Elizabeth (Noomi Rapace) and Charlie (Logan Marshall-Green) are recruited by Weyland to head a mission to another planet one they believe holds the answers to the creation of life on Earth. Along for the journey are Vickers (Charlize Theron) the ruthless Weyland proxy Janek (Idris Elba) a blue collar captain a slew of faceless scientists and David (Michael Fassbender) HAL 9000-esque resident android who awakens the crew of spaceship Prometheus when they arrive to their destination. Immediately upon descent there's a discovery: a giant mound that's anything but natural. The crew immediately prepares to scope out the scene zipping up high-tech spacesuits jumping in futuristic humvees and heading out to the site. What they discover are the awe-inspiring creations of another race. What they bring back to the ship is what they realize may kill their own.
The first half of Prometheus could be easily mistaken for Steven Spielberg's Alien a sense of wonder glowing from every frame not too unlike Close Encounters. Scott takes full advantage of his fictional settings and imbues them with a reality that makes them even more tantalizing. He shoots the vistas of space and the alien planet like National Geographic porn and savors the interior moments on board the Prometheus full of hologram maps sleeping pods and do-it-yourself surgery modules with the same attention. Prometheus is beautiful shot in immersive 3D that never dampers Dariusz Wolski's sharp photography. Scott's direction seems less interested in the run-or-die scenario set up in the latter half of the film but the film maintains tension and mood from beginning to end. It all just gets a bit…bloodier.
Jon Spaihts' and Damon Lindelof's script doesn't do the performers any favors shuffling them to and fro between the ship and the alien construction without much room for development. Reveals are shoehorned in without much setup (one involving Theron's Vickers that's shockingly mishandled) but for the most part the ensemble is ready to chomp into the script's bigger picture conceits. Rapace is a physical performer capable of pulling off a grisly scene involving an alien some sharp objects and a painful procedure (sure to be the scene of the blockbuster season. Among the rest of the crew Fassbender's David stands out as the film's revelatory performance delivering a digestible ambiguity to his mechanical man that playfully toys with expectations from his first entrance. The creature effects in Prometheus will wow you but even Fassbender's smallest gesture can send the mind spinning. The power of his smile packs more of a punch than any facehugger.
Much like Lindelof's Lost Prometheus aims to explore the idea of asking questions and seeking answers and on Scott's scale it's a tremendous unexpected ride. A few ideas introduced to spur action fall to the way side in the logic department but with a clear mission and end point Prometheus works as a sweeping sci-fi that doesn't require choppy editing or endless explosions to keep us on the edge of our seats. Prometheus isn't too far off from the Alien xenomorphs: born from existing DNA of another creature the movie breaks out as its own beast. And it's wilder than ever.
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